Xavier shrugged. “It popped up last minute. But are you coming to the housewarming or not?”
I rubbed at the ache in my lower back. “When is it?”
“Next Saturday.”
“I don’t think I have anything planned, so I should be able to come.” It wouldn’t hurt to go to something that could distract me from everything else going on. “Can I bring a friend?”
“Bring as many friends as you like,” Xavier smiled with a wave of his hand. “I’ll text you the details.”
There were no fights scheduled for the night. Roxy mentioned in passing that Antonio had other more important things to deal with and would prefer the basement be empty while he did. The news came as a relief. Patching up smelly men was one less thing I had to worry about tonight.
Tired, grouchy because the pain meds weren’t working as well as they usually did, and regretting not drinking enough water tonight, I heaved two trash bags through the side door. Then dragged them towards the dumpster but paused when I heard voices, male voices, drifting down the alleyway from the parking lot at the rear of The Den.
To make the moment even more ominous, it started to rain. The water fell from the gutters high above in large splats on the alleyway below, quickly soaking my hair but masking the rustling of the garbage bags as I rested them against the dumpster.
I knew I should’ve just turned around and headed back inside, but as I recognized one voice as Antonio’s and another as Frank’s, my curiosity got the better of me, pulling me toward the end of the alleyway. The heavy fall of the rain aided in covering my footsteps as I edged along the wall to the corner.
Antonio was standing beside the open trunk of a car, just outside the back door to the basement several feet away from me. Two bodyguards stood on either side of him, one holding an umbrella over his boss’s head, while Frank and another fighter faced them.
Both fighters looked extremely nervous and soaked to the bone already. I vaguely remembered the other fighter's name being Greg. I had only interacted with him once when he needed an ice pack. He was one of Frank’s friends.
“This was found in your locker,” Antonio said, lifting two balaclavas from the trunk.
Frank shifted on his feet nervously. “It was planted.”
“I’ve never seen them before,” Greg said quickly.
Antonio’s face remained stoic as he nodded to the bodyguard not holding the umbrella. The large man turned to the trunk, retrieved a laptop, and opened it under the shelter of the umbrella for both men to see the screen. I could just make out the paused footage of the basement. The angle of the camera pointed at the back door and lockers. The kitchen and my supply cabinet were out of shot.
From the expressions on Frank and Greg’s faces, I doubted they knew of the cameras too.
Antonio tapped the space bar on the laptop, playing the footage as he watched the fighters before him with a knowing smirk in his eyes.
The video was jarring enough even without audio. Beginning right at the moment two men in balaclavas approached Dean. He was facing his locker, completely unaware, before one wrapped the jump rope around his throat and yanked back while the other waited nearby — waited until he was on his knees before striking him across the chest with a tire iron.
I dropped my gaze to a puddle on the ground, unable to watch the rest until the tap of the space bar pulled my attention back to the men. The video was paused just after Dean passed out. When his attackers removed their masks. Frank and Greg were standing over him, both looking toward the basement and unknowingly revealing their faces to the camera above.
“It was all his idea,” Greg blurted out as he pointed at Frank.
“You fucking coward,” Frank spat at his accomplice before looking at Antonio. “The little shit has been getting free handouts and special treatment from you long enough, don’t you think? I’m sick of the fucking favoritism. All because of what happened to his pathetic little family?”
“You know the rules, Frank,” Antonio said simply as the laptop was put back in the trunk. “I think we’re done here.”
Greg glanced over his shoulder nervously, as if contemplating his chances of escape, while Frank continued. Jutting out his chin in confidence, he said, “Good. Fire me. See if I fucking care. It’ll give me a chance to fight the bastard as an outsider.”
“I think you have me mistaken, Frank. I’m not letting you off that easily.”
With one subtle motioning of Antonio's finger, his bodyguards pulled guns from their pockets. Equipped with silencers, they pointed them at the men.
My eyes widened but before I could suck in a breath, a hand clamped down over my mouth. Muffling my scream, they pulled me backward and backed me into the brick wall.
Dean removed his hand from my mouth and cupped his hands over my ears right as two brief flashes lit up his face.
The world stopped.
And not in a good way.
Dean slowly lowered his hands, maintaining eye contact as he kept his voice low. “What are you doin’ back here?”
